But who will bother with wallets anymore, once paradise is fully legislated? Private property is so capitalist.
It's like The Best of Bread, with less nutrition.
Purpose is yours to make or break.
Dirt is without purpose.
I doubt I'm out-dumbing you.
I just accept it as one of life's little mysteries.
Oh just get stuffed. You can't argue hyper-materialism here, then "little mysteries" there. Oh, wait: in crapflood mode, such contradictions are a requirement.
It makes no difference at all. It all depends how you want to live.
If it makes no difference at all, because you are Dirt, then the illusion of "how you want to live" also dissolves into nihilistic dirt, Dirt. You can slam your fingers in your Overton Window, but it was all variations on dirt, Dirt. At least, that seems the conclusion of your course. With which I don't fully agree. Sure, the flesh is dirt, but our very conversation itself negates the assertion that dirt is all there is.
All those coders who swore on pain of death that they'd never be over Macho Grande then get together for a bit of Agile Pair Scrum seppuku.
Well, it's all nihilism then, isn't it? Why don't I just call you 'Dirt', if that's all you ultimately are? Just go on a riotous, hedonistic tear! In the absence of any broader context, how can it possibly matter, Dirt?
When are you going to drop this façade of intellect, Dirt?
The good news is that I know what lies beyond your farce.